The Weeks After
by Coff
Summary: What happened in the weeks after the final battle?
1. An Influx Of Houseguests

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone that you recognise, and I really don't own the plot either – it's pretty much a missing moment sort of thing.

**An Influx of House Guests.**

Harry wasn't sure why everyone had all come over to stay at the Burrow. He knew, of course, that it had something vaguely to do with the fact that Fred had passed away, but he just couldn't understand how they were helping in any way.

It hadn't even been a complete day after the battle, before people had started turning up. Even Ron didn't know who half of them were, though they were undoubtedly related to him. The place was overflowing with people, flowers, cards - most of which sang songs of condolence - and, perhaps worst of all, the visitors' pets. Frogs were leaping out of everywhere, rats were being chased by cats who in turn were being chased by dogs, there were that many birds that it seemed as though the house had turned into an aviary, and thought Harry could hardly believe it, someone had actually brought their _horse_.

He, Ron and Hermione had snuck out there several days after it had arrived, because Hermione had desperately wanted to ride it. Harry didn't know what it was with girls and horses, but it seemed as though he would have the chance to find out. The owner of the horse had flung open a window on the second floor, started shooting hexes at them, as well as an impressive string of curses, both of the magical variety and not, and then climbed out of the window, no doubt with the intention of doing something rather harmful to them.

Harry, Hermione and Ron hadn't stuck around long enough to find out.

To put it simply, the visitors just got in the way. All of them found one way or another to be in the same room as Harry, so that privacy was not an option, and meals were absolutely impossible. Indeed, Mrs. Weasley seemed to be spending all her time cooking, and not doing much else. Laundry had been stopped indefinitely, and, even worse, so had grieving.

Harry knew that this was just her way of coping, much the same way that Mr. Weasley's way was to tinker about in the shed and George's was to blow things up. It still didn't make things any better, though, because she knew that if she didn't grieve now, when she did, it would be so much worse.

As for Percy, Bill and Charlie, well, Percy seemed to be spending all his time in his room, only coming out for the odd meal. Harry had a suspicion that Percy felt guilty, as though he could have prevented it from happening. Harry knew that feeling, indeed, he knew it quite well; it was one that just wouldn't go away, no matter what anyone said. If he'd gone to confront Voldemort earlier, perhaps Fred would be alive. Perhaps Lupin and Tonks would be alive.

The last time he'd said that aloud, though, Ron had punched him. _'Don't say that they died for nothing,' _he'd shouted at Harry. _'Don't say that.'_

If the crack in his voice wasn't enough to stop Harry from voicing these thoughts, then the mild concussion he'd given him certainly was.

Having time to reflect, however, had made him realise that Lupin would be happier with his best friends, and he was, he was reunited with his very best friends. Harry also knew that Tonks would never have been happy had Lupin died and she lived. Though they left behind Teddy, he could grow up knowing that his parents were heroes of the highest order.

Bill and Charlie seemed to be coping better than the rest, but there was still the odd moment where either one would sit silently, gazing into nothing as if they were a million miles away.

And the rest of the families, the million variants of cousins, aunts and uncles that had come to stay, goodness gracious, Harry didn't even know where they were all actually staying, nor did he know exactly how many of them there were. One day there seemed as though there were two hundred, and then the next, most of them could have vanished. To wake up early and desire a cup of tea was a dangerous task, simply as you had to cross the minefield that was the floor to every room in the house.

He just wished they would all go away, however ungrateful that made him seem. He had been thinking very seriously about becoming a recluse and living in the middle of nowhere, where the nearest neighbours were fifty miles in any direction. He knew, though, that that was unfair; they were just trying to help after all. They were not, however, making things any easier on anyone, most of all, Mrs. Weasley. They were just serving as a distraction, indeed, a very stressful one. Where to put them for the night, what to cook for meals, and the fact that everyone seemed to want to bathe at the same time were hassles that Harry knew none of them needed.

A rather awkward moment had ensured the afternoon before, when he had been sitting alone in the kitchen with her, as she attempted to cook dinner for what seemed an entire army. When she failed to complete a sentence, he looked up at her, only to see her hunched over the kitchen sink, shoulders shaking, head down.

The only thing to do, of course, was to go over there and comfort her, but what was he to say to her? What was he supposed to say, to make her feel better? He didn't know the first thing about losing a son, and indeed, he hoped he never would. He patted her shoulder awkwardly, and then, deciding he'd better do the whole thing properly, he put an arm around her shoulders in a sort of one armed hug, squeezing her to him.

'It was for the greater good,' he said, and then, remembering _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore,_ felt disgusted. 'I mean – well, he's a hero, and he was so brave, and I know that he would never have wanted to go at all, but if he did, he would have wanted to go fighting.'

Mrs. Weasley gave a half sob, and a half attempt at a laugh and then cleared her throat. 'I know,' she said. 'It's just – if it were anyone, I'd never have dreamed it to be Fred.'

They were silent for a while, a slightly awkward silence, one in which Harry racked his brains for something suitable to say.

'Well, it's not like you're never going to see him again, right? You will. In time.'

He remembered Luna saying something similar at the end of fifth year, right after Sirius died.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a smile, and wiped away the tears from her face. 'Thank you,' she said. 'For everything.'

'I don't know why you're thanking me,' he replied. 'If you'd never have met me, none of this would have happened.'

* * *

The breakfast table was surprisingly empty. So empty, in fact, that Harry was the only person sitting at it. No one was up, aside from Mrs. Weasley, who was tackling the rather alarming pile of washing in the laundry room, and Harry himself, who had woken up a dawn after yet another nightmare of the Battle, and couldn't get back to sleep. Everyone had finally left, thank God, had done so several days after the episode in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley, and so had Bill and Charlie, so it was only George, who couldn't face his flat alone, Percy, who wanted to make up for lost time, and the younger ones, who hadn't moved out as of yet.

That was the one thing that Harry was currently thinking about; where to move to. He supposed Grimmauld Place was the best option; he already owned it, it was a familiar, if not entirely welcoming place, and it was easy to get to. He had actually already almost completely decided to go there, and was now just trying to decide _when_ to go.

The Burrow _was_ a welcoming place, and he knew that it'd make Mrs. Weasley feel so much better if he stayed for quite a while. There was only one thing to do, he decided. Stay until Ginny goes back to Hogwarts, and perhaps even a while after, and then go. He wanted to ask Ron and Hermione as well, but he didn't know how Mrs. Weasley would take it; almost all of her children out of the house.

He took a deep breath, relishing in the quietness of the house, and the fact that, for the first time since the battle, he had time to himself. He'd been waiting for this moment since he'd defeated Voldemort, since the battle had ended.

Just as he was thinking of how wonderful it was to have privacy, and solidarity, the door to the yard opened, and a tall, freckly male strode through.

'Great morning, isn't it?' they said cheerfully, a wide, reluctant grin upon their face.

'You're up early,' Harry remarked suspiciously, as Ron stretched, yawning loudly in a self satisfied sort of way, and then flopped himself into a chair opposite and tried to battle ferociously with the grin, eventually eradicating it from his face. 'Why would that be?'

'Yeah, well,' he replied, a little smugly. 'Couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk.'

He helped himself to a slice of toast from the stack upon the table and spread jam across it, licking the knife when he finished. Harry watched, mystified, as a sheepishly smug grin broke out across his face.

'Really,' Harry asked. 'Why are you up so early? I've never known you to wake up early and want to take a walk.'

'Well,' said Ron, 'this past year's changed me. Maybe I just wanted to think things through.'

Though Harry was rather doubtful, he didn't press the matter. He supposed it could be because it was a beautiful sunny day, one of the warmest they'd had all summer. Even though it was not an hour after sunrise, the thermometer on the wall was showing that the temperature was in the late twenties. The rain that had been keeping them inside for the past week had finally let up the day before, so that the flowers were blooming, the grass was reaching incredible heights, and the pond was full.

It was a perfect day for a swim.

'Great morning,' Ron said again, his leg jiggling.

Harry was utterly bemused. For the first time since the fight, Ron seemed to be in absolutely high spirits. He gave a little start as Ron chuckled softly, and started at him, trying to figure out why it was so. Ever since the battle, Ron had been a mixture of anger, sadness, and a little bit of regret, so this good mood was most surprising, to say the least.

'Go on, then,' he said suspiciously. 'What's with the good mood?'

He was quite sure, now, that it wasn't to do with the warm day, or the lack of rain. And he knew that it wasn't to do with the fact that they could go for a swim later, if they wanted to.

'Hmm?' Ron said evasively. 'What good mood? It's a good morning, that's all. It's a beautiful, warm day.'

'Really,' Harry said. 'Why is it so good?'

'It – it just is. Did you notice that the rain's let up?'

'Yes,' Harry said. 'Yes I did. What'd you do? What happened? Come on, tell me.'

Ron cleared his throat nervously, and the grin grew into a self satisfied smirk.'Well, I er-' Ron trailed off, and Harry stared at him. Ron went a brilliant, bright red.

'I didn't know that shade of red was possible,' Harry said amused. 'Please, continue.'

But before Ron could answer, George came stumbling down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.'Morning,' he yawned. 'What are you both doing up this early?'

'Ron says he went for a walk,' Harry informed him. 'He also says it's a beautiful morning, and he seems to be really happy, for some reason.'

'Really?' George studied Ron closely as he took a seat at the wooden table. 'What'd you do, little brother?'

'Nothing,' said Ron. 'It's just a lovely morning.'

Harry and George exchanged a suspicious, amused look.'Come on,' George said. 'Out with it.' He yawned again, stretching his arms out, and almost hit Errol as he flew in with the day's mail. 'Oops,' he said, as he grabbed the mail and began flipping through the different letters, before placing them on the table and addressing Harry. 'You've got fan mail.'

Harry groaned slightly, and then looked at Ron impatiently. 'Out with it.'

'There's nothing to tell,' Ron said in a very smug tone, as he grabbed an apple from the basket sitting on the table.

Harry and George exchanged a look again, and then leant their heads close together, as Ron took a bite out or his apple, made a face, and then summoned a pastry from the cupboard. 'On the count of three,' George whispered, 'you disarm him, and I'll grab him in a headlock.'

Harry bit back a snigger, and sat back up straight, slowly and surreptitiously drawing his wand out of his pocket.

'One ...' George murmured, and Harry nodded. Ron, busy with his pastry, didn't notice. 'Two ... three!'

'EXPELLIARMUS,' Harry shouted, pointing his wand at Ron as George leapt out of his seat, rolled across the table, and grabbed Ron in a headlock. The clatter of Ron's wand echoed across the now silent room, as Ron gasped for breath.

'Now,' Harry said. 'Are you going to tell us or not?'

Ron swallowed, and then nodded, blushing a brilliant red again. 'Oh, alright.'

They waited. And waited. And then looked at each other in exasperation.

'Ron,' George said impatiently, tightening his hold on Ron's neck, 'the whole point of telling us is to actually _tell _us.'

Harry sniggered.

'Well,' Ron mumbled, 'I had a good night sleep, you know?'

George gave him a little shake. 'No, I don't know.'

'Well,' Ron swallowed again, 'perhaps it wasn't sleeping that made it so good.'

George let go of him in shock, and quickly say back down. 'Are you serious?' he said, and then began to laugh. 'Are you _serious?_'

Harry had no idea what they were talking about.

'Wow,' George said gleefully. 'My little brother!' He stood up, laughing. 'When I come back from the toilet,' he informed Ron, 'I'm going to tease you _so_ much.'

Harry looked at Ron in bewilderment as George left the room. 'What _are_ you talking about?'

'Well, _you_ know... I er... well...'

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

'No,' Harry gasped. '_Really_?'

Ron nodded; his grin now at the widest Harry had ever seen it, and the blush even redder than before.

'_Really?_ Did you _really?_'

Ron nodded once again.

Harry laughed, and then sat back in his chair, observing Ron through slightly narrowed, amused eyes.

'Wow. You – ' he broke off as he saw Hermione descend the stairs, looking rather more feminine than she usually did. Resisting the urge to clap and cheer loudly, he smirked at her as she sat down at the head of the table, between himself and Ron.

'Good morning,' he said smugly to her. 'Was it?'

She glared at him. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Ron gave her a smirk and a wink, and she slapped him. 'Did you tell him, Ron?'

'No,' said Harry. 'But he was being a bit obvious about it.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Of course.'

Harry chuckled, and rose from the table. 'Well,' he smirked. 'I'll leave you two to it, then.'

As he walked up the stairs, he heard Hermione's slightly annoyed voice tell Ron off, the sound of flesh on flesh as she hit him again, and the sound of Ron chuckling. He paused at the top of the stairs as he heard George enter the room. George didn't even resist the temptation to clap loudly, his laughter echoing up and down the stairs. 'Good on you Hermi- ooff! What was that for?'

'Maybe,' Hermione suggested tartly, 'you should mind your own business.'

'I'm all wet, you mean thing!'

* * *

Upstairs, Harry lay down on his camp bed, frowning a little. He wasn't jealous, as such, because he knew how hard it had been for both of them to get together, and nothing had changed between the three of them at all, indeed, Hermione and Ron were no more politer to each other than usual, so it wasn't that at all, he was just, well, a little miserable that he hadn't been able to talk to Ginny yet. The fact that they'd all been very busy with the restoration of Hogwarts; not just the building, but the protective spells as well, the house guests, the lack of personal space, and the fact that her older brother had just passed away all contributed to the reason why he hadn't talked to her about anything of substance, but now with the house guests gone, and Fred's death somewhat in the past, he was absolutely terrified at the thought of telling her about everything.

It wasn't that he didn't want to share what had happened with her, it was more that he knew she'd be furious with some of the things that had happened, some of the risks that he took. And, a very small part of him was terrified that she'd come to her senses, and now wanted nothing to do with him at all.

He just missed her terribly, so bad that it was to the point where she was all he thought about. At every moment of every day, he had one eye on Ginny, and one eye on the person talking to him. If she wasn't in the same room as him, he'd find out where she was, and what she was doing. And, at the same time, he avoided her like she was the plague. It was, of course, rather difficult with him never leaving her side, and wanting to know where she was, and what she was doing, and why she was doing that at all hours of the day. It was also, of course, rather confusing for even himself to contemplate, but he did avoid her, because of the even more confusing reason; he missed her, and though Hermione would tell him to talk to her, if he missed her so, and though Ron would call him an indecisive idiot, and inform him in no uncertain terms to stop messing around with her or he'll punch him to next Thursday, he somehow couldn't bridge this gap, this _gulf _between them.

He didn't know _how_ to bridge the gap. Say she didn't want to, because of the things he'd done, because of the year where he went off, and experienced things that she never would. Say she was angry that he didn't bring her, or jealous, or, even worse, say she thought he'd turned into a wanker? Say he really _had _turned into a wanker? Say he was arrogant, and cold, and unfeeling, and...

Oh dear. She did think he was arrogant, and cold, and unfeeling, because he'd been ignoring her for Merlin knows how long. He just _knew_ it.

Perhaps he should become a recluse, after all. The fifty miles in each direction wouldn't even have to be a requirement, because – aside from the fact that he doubted there was anywhere in Britain where the nearest neighbour was fifty miles away – the year away had resulted in he being very good at hiding himself when he wanted to. Really, all that he had to do was get a tent, or find a cave. He could live in the mountains, or near a country village. During the winter, all he had to do was cast a few warming spells, and getting food was absolutely no problem at all; all he had to do was put on his invisibility cloak and nick a few things. _Easy._

Or, instead of becoming a total recluse, he could change his name, leave the wizarding world, start a muggle career, and marry a nice, perfectly magic-less girl.And as a result, he wouldn't have to face Ginny. And the thousands of people bowing to his very name.

But, well, aside from the fact that he didn't want to jump over the first hurdle, if he didn't trip, fall or crash, if he made a clean jump, the rest of the race seemed very promising.

But, he told himself, he probably would trip, because she more than likely _did_ think he was arrogant, and cold, and unfeeling.

Calling himself all the names he could think of, and creating quite a few rather imaginative ones, he pounded the pillow in anger. It did indeed make himself feel a little better; with each pound, with each hit, and with each name he thought of in his head, a little bit of his frustration seeped away.

'It's quite dead,' a voice said softly from the door. 'It's not going to…'

The voice trailed off as Harry looked up at her in shock, and she swallowed, braced herself, and said, 'sorry. I didn't mean to… I'll… Sorry.'

Harry opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, and then realising he didn't know what to say, closed his mouth again.

Ginny's eyebrows knotted, and Harry just knew she was absolutely furious at him. He hurriedly looked away from her, and down at his pillow, determinedly not looking anywhere in her direction. He heard her start to say something, and then heard her swallow again.

'Look,' she began – in Harry's opinion, she sounded rather angry – 'can't you just… Oh, never mind.'

Only when there had been silence for a good thirty seconds did he look up at the doorway; when he saw it was, of course, empty, he wasn't sure whether he was disappointed or glad.

He'll wait, he decided. It wasn't that he was scared; in fact he made a point of very firmly telling himself that at any moment when it seemed possible that his emotions would turn traitorous and admit that he was. It was just that it wasn't the right time.With that thought, he rose from his bed and got a change of clothes, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head asking if now wasn't the right time, then when would be?

And of course, the other problem was that he didn't know what to actually say to her. He'd have to have a very long bath to mull things over, he decided.

**Anyone who leaves a review gets a calming cup of tea, especially made for you by Mrs. Weasley! I was planning on leaving it there, but I don't know, what do you think? Should I have a few more chapters? Any advice, tips or corrections would be lovely; I re-read endlessly, but always notice mistakes when I post a story anyway! I also know that some of you may think that Ron and Hermione's relationship moved very fast, but in this story it had been almost a month since the final battle, and that they had both liked each other for a very long time. It wasn't like a week after the final battle - now that would be a little unbelievable.**** Also, I said that the temperature was in the late twenties: I was, of course, referring the Celsius system, not the Fahrenheit one. For anyone that uses the Fahrenheit system, late twenties is an absolutely beautiful day, rather warm. **


	2. A Little Bit Of A Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything, J.K Rowling does.

_Well, here it is; the second chapter. It's taken me some time to write this, because I was intending to have the first chapter as a one shot, but got carried away. The story inspiration just struck me as I was playing civilization IV – an odd time to have inspiration for a story, yes, I'll admit it, but I was pretty much writing it as I went along, and so there was no plot line for this, just a vague idea of where I wanted to get to._

_I'd really like to thank all the people that reviewed, espicially the two critical reviews. I'm really sorry, but I've completely forgotten your usernames and I just want to get this up, but to the one that said she did think they'd moved a bit fast - I can see what you mean, but I suppose I just have a different view on sex to you. I can see how you'd think that she'd want to wait, but to me, I just thought she wouldn't. Actually, her not waiting for ages was the whole reason I wrote this; a scene where Ron was very pleased with himself about a month after the final battle just popped into my head and I sat down and wrote it._

_The way I saw it was that if I'd liked someone for that long, and I'd finally gotten with them, and I'd defeated an evil tyrant, then I'd not wait around for ages. It'd change your view on things, and your feelings._

_But thank you for writing that, because I wasn't sure how it'd come across to other people, and if I ever write one from Hermione's point of view around that time, I'll be sure to explain why she's doing it quicker than most people would think proper._

_And to the person that thought it was a little cliched, thanks for saying that, I'm really glad you did. I should have made it more clear; I always forget that no one else can see what I'm thinking, and as such, always leave things out._

_I made him feel guilty for a number of reasons, and one of them was because he thought he should have gone earlier, and to me, that was because when you're grieving, and you're blaming yourself, you look for as many reasons as you can, and to him, that was the one that made the most sense. And he when he was thinking that, he was really upset and not really thinking it through. He was also feeling guilty for bringing the battle to hogwarts, and making them all fight, and he was also feeling guilty for befriending them in the first place, and dragging them into the war._

_Before I wrote it, I just sat down for a moment and tried to think how he'd feel, and why, so I did think it through, I just kind of - forgot that you all can't see what I'm thinking if I don't write it down!_

**CHAPTER TWO**

Three days later, Harry found himself standing before the closed door that would lead to Ginny's room.

If he were to be quite honest, he had no idea how he ended up there. Well, that was something of an overstatement. Of course he knew _what_ he was doing there, because he had been building himself up to this for a month, and of course he knew on an _intellectual_ level that he must have used his legs, feet and a few stomach muscles to get there, but it was just that he wasn't aware that his feet were now in charge of his body, and not his brain.

Because that was exactly what had happened. Somewhere, along the route from Ron's bedroom to the kitchen, where his brain had intended to console itself, or rather, feel sorry for itself (as a result of his situation with Ginny) over a warm cup of tea and a hearty breakfast, his feet had evidently said, 'We've had enough of this, boy!' and quite firmly disconnected his brain from the rest of his body, most importantly his limbs and mouth, so that no objections could be raised. The result of this, of course, was that he now found himself standing before her door.

Perhaps his feet had the right of it, he thought. Well, as much as feet could, he supposed. He decided never to tell Ron or Hermione that his feet had commandeered his brain; the resulting teasing and smug looks would be close to unbearable.

It had to be said, though, that his feet had gotten one thing right (two, actually, if a positive resolution could be reached by this plan – because Harry was fully prepared to give his feet full credit if this little scheme of theirs paid off); Ron and Hermione weren't actually in the house at that moment. Harry was very glad that he didn't have to deal with Ron and his slightly suspicious view of Harry and his only sister, and nor with Hermione's knowing smirks. He really did have enough to deal with, with Ginny alone. He knew that Hermione was rather frustrated with him over the fact that he hadn't yet worked up the courage to talk to Ginny, and he knew that she would have told him to get a move on, had she not evidently come to the decision that he needed to figure it out on his own. He had a sneaking suspicion that Ron had told her as much, because though Hermione was rather knowledgeable when it came to girl business, it seemed a rather Ron sort of thing to know when he needed to do something himself, and when he needed to be kicked up the arse a few times about it first.

This new Ron that sometimes surfaced was quite a surprise, though, Harry had to admit. He knew that it was to do with Hermione, and he grinned every time he saw him doing yet another thing to get into her good books, and he knew that she had him tightly wrapped around her little finger. He didn't mind that she had, though, because she was one of his best friends, and he knew that she had no malicious undermining nature, or a tendency to play mind games, or worse, a creepy, or stalker sort of personality. If he was honest with himself, he was just glad that they had finally gotten together. He remembered that the day after the final battle, there had been some passing of gold from hand to hand, and George had, with tears streaming down his pale face, put some gold into Fred's pockets, and he wondered, like he did whenever he thought about Ron and Hermione's relationship, if there had been bets placed as to when they would get together. And Ron, even though he had a rather dubious taste in books, had no intention of treating Hermione in any way other than in the way that she deserved to be treated; with utmost respect, his full attention, and loving care.

This thought brought him back to what he was doing standing before Ginny's door; the fact that she too deserved to be treated with utmost respect, Harry's full attention, and his loving care.

He had been standing out before her door for at least five minutes, and only one word could come to mind when he thought about this fact; procrastination. Five minutes of cursing, congratulating, and giving full credit to his feet, and a little bit of reflection on Ron and Hermione's relationship. This had not, of course, had any effect on reducing his terror – in fact it had been quite the opposite.

Perhaps he should just go back to his room, he thought. Or, perhaps he could go down to the kitchen for a good breakfast, as was originally intended. Perhaps he should wait longer, before he confronted her. Perhaps...

The door opened before he could fully decide on a particular plan, and red hair barrelled out of the room, colliding with his chest.

'Ooof!' she grunted. 'What the...'

She looked up in surprise at Harry, and he felt himself going red.

'Sorry,' he said quietly. 'I just wanted to... well, actually... oh look, don't worry about it. It doesn't matter. See you later.'

He turned to leave, but before he had taken more than a step, Ginny gripped his arm tightly, and pulled him back around to face her.

'Let's talk,' she said. 'We need to. Come on.'

'No, Ginny...' Harry protested. 'No, look, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have come, please, I'll just go...'

Harry didn't know whether he was disappointed or glad that Ginny's grip on him was so tight, and that he had no chance of getting away. He knew on a subconscious level that he did have his wand with him, and if he was really determined he could have forced her to let go, but he shoved those thoughts back into the rubbish bin of his mind. There was no way he could get out of this. No way at all. Granted, he wasn't trying very hard, but it was just because she had such a tight grip on him. He just couldn't escape.

'Ginny...' he said, as one last very feeble, absolutely pathetic attempt to change her mind. She ignored him.

'Sit,' she said, pointing to her bed. Meekly, he walked over and sat, whilst she pulled a chair from the desk in the corner, and sat before him. 'Right, well, I know you were standing out there for at least five minutes, because I could hear you, so why don't you tell me what you were obviously working yourself up to tell me, and we'll get it over and done with.'

Harry stared at her, quite surprised. 'You... wait what?'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Merlin, why are all boys so clueless?'

'Hey,' said Harry, rather offended. 'I'm not clueless.'

Ginny raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

'Okay,' Harry said desperately. 'Look, I was outside your room for a good five minutes, and I'm sorry, and I shouldn't have come to talk t - hey, wait a second! If you knew I was outside your room, why did you come rushing out of it, and collide into me?'

Ginny shrugged. 'I needed to get you talk somehow.'

Harry decided he was beyond the point where he was confused by girls. It was much worse that simple confusion. It was even much worse than bewilderment. He wasn't actually even sure if there was yet a name for what he was feeling. Instead of confusing himself further by contemplating this, he settled for a shake of the head, as though he was trying to get the water out of his ears. He wished girls would just come out and say things, instead of beating around the bush, or trying any of this tactful, subtle rubbish. He disregarded the little thought that popped up; informing him that Ginny was not the type of girl to have patience with beating around the bush. What she had just admitted to doing had been very sneaky, and he would have never suspected a thing had she not told him that she had done it.

Ginny sighed, and looked at him in pity. 'Okay, I'll make it easy for you,' she said. 'All you have to do is tell me that you think I'm lovely, but you don't think it'll work out between us, and you don't want to get back together, and that's why you've been avoiding me, because you didn't want to hurt my feelings, or get my hopes up, and then I tell you not to worry, and that I understand, and then you thank me for being so understanding, and then you give me a little rub on the arm, and then you leave, and we avoid each other for the next week or so, and when we have to talk, we'll be awkward, and conversation will be stilted, and then a month or two down the road... actually, considering what you're like, six months down the road, we'll talk about this whole thing and have a bit of a laugh.'

Harry changed his mind immediately. Ginny was not sneaky, and she wasn't beating around the bush. She always was incredibly forthright.

And then what she had said sunk in properly.

'Hang on,' he said wildly. 'How could you... I mean, what? You think that?'

'Well,' said Ginny. 'It's a bit obvious, to be honest.'

Harry sat there in shock for a moment or two, before he realised Ginny was staring at him expectantly.

'That's not what I was going to say,' he said, finally finding his voice.

'It's okay,' Ginny said. 'You don't have to lie to make me feel better. I'll be alright.'

'No,' Harry said desperately, and just the little bit offended that she seemed to get over him so quickly (despite the fact that he didn't actually want to not be with her) 'No, it really wasn't. Merlin, Ginny, why would I ever say that to you?'

Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'Well, you've been avoiding me this past month, whenever I try to talk to you, you somehow turn into a mute, and every time I touch you, even just brush past you, you recoil. What else could it be?'

Harry felt incredibly stupid. How could he have been such an idiot? Of course that'd be what she thought, with him acting like that. 'Look, it's not that,' he said, hoping against hope that she still wanted to be with him.

'Well?' Ginny asked impatiently. 'What is it then?'

Harry sat there, saying nothing. What could he say? How could he begin to tell her anything? Not when this had all gone so badly wrong. This wasn't how he had imagined it at all, not in the slightest. In his mind, after his confession of deepest love, she had fallen into his arms, and they had both lived happily ever after.On reflection, he decided he needed to stop daydreaming so often. And he most definitely needed to stop reading those witch magazines whilst he was eating breakfast. Those stories in them promised nothing but trouble.

'Look,' Ginny said finally. 'Perhaps you'd better go.'

'No,' Harry said. 'No, look, I'm so sorry. It's just...'

'Just what?' Ginny whispered. 'What?'

'I was scared to talk to you. I thought you hated me. I didn't know what you'd say when... well, I don't know.'

'Are you an idiot?'

'I've wanted to talk to you every day since the final battle... every day since Ron, Hermione and I left that day last August, really. Merlin, I've missed you so much, you have absolutely no idea -'

'- Oh, I think I do -'

'- But I didn't know what you'd say when I told you everything that I'd done, when I finally explained everything.'

The silence stretched on as Ginny digested this.

'And I was scared you hated me, scared that you wanted nothing to do with me.'

'You really are an idiot.'

Harry finally met her eyes, his eyebrows raised. 'Thanks,' he said dryly.

'No,' said Ginny. 'You really are.'

Harry looked at her, almost afraid to think of what that could mean. Did she like him, or did she hate him? Did she resent him for living, while her brother died, while countless others died, or did she forgive him?

'Yeah, I could really want nothing to do with you,' she said sarcastically, and Harry's heart skipped a few beats.

'Hey,' said Harry defensively. 'You're the one that thought I was going to tell you I didn't like you anymore.'

There was once again silence, whilst Ginny thought about this. 'Okay,' she said finally. 'How about we begin this again? You tell me what you came here to tell me.'

Harry thought about this, and then nodded. 'Alright,' he said finally. 'Erm...'He found that he didn't really know how to start. Apologise, he told himself. Girls like apologies.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly, taking her hands in his, and looking her in the eye. 'I'm sorry for not talking to you for the past month, for ignoring you, for breaking up with you at the end of sixth year, for everything, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry you had to meet me in the first place, to be honest. I mean, I'm definitely not sorry I met you, but if we hadn't, then Merlin, none of this would have happened to you and oh god -'

'- if you're done beating yourself up...' Ginny interrupted. Harry withdrew his hands from hers, and instead put his head in them.

'I... I'm so sorry,' he whispered.

'Hey,' Ginny said softly, moving from her chair to sit on the bed next to him, and taking his hand in hers. 'Hey now,' she whispered, rubbing his hand with her own; he looked at her gratefully. 'It's not your fault,' she told him.

Harry thought differently, but he decided not to push it. If she didn't hate him, he wasn't going to convince her otherwise.

'So you don't hate me?' he asked hopefully. 'Really?'

'Really,' smiled Ginny.

Harry gave a soft, breathy laugh of amazement. 'Wow,' he breathed. 'Hey, d'you want to... d'you want to go out with me?'

Ginny laughed. 'Yes,' she told him with a grin. 'I'd like that very much.'

Harry laughed again; the same soft, breathy amazed laugh. 'Wow,' he said again, and Ginny laughed at him.

'What else did you come here to say?' she asked him. 'I know it couldn't have been just that.'

'Well,' Harry began slowly. 'I came here to apologise for running off last August, although I did have to, and I'm sorry for pretending I was dead, though I also had to do that as well, and I'm sorry for not saying goodbye to you when I passed you on my way to the forbidden forest to meet Voldemort.'

'I'm sorry,' Ginny said. 'You what?'

'I er – may have passed you on the way to meet Voldemort?'

'Hmm,' Ginny said disapprovingly. 'Right...'

'Do you want me to tell you what we did on our year away?' Harry asked, mostly just to change the subject.

'Yes, please,' Ginny said. 'No one's told me yet.'

Somewhere in his mind, it registered that Ron and Hermione must have purposely not told her what had happened, must have decided to leave it up to him. He was most grateful for it. 'Well,' he began. 'When we left the wedding, we first went to muggle London, because we figured no one would look for us there...'

* * *

It was an hour later, and Harry still hadn't finished his recount of the past year. Ginny had spent the last fifteen minutes of it barely able to keep silent, not to mention staying still enough to actually listen to what he was saying. 'Shush,' he laughed, as he pulled her back down onto the bed. 'Will you let me continue?'

'But... I can't believe it! No wonder you convinced Kingsley to let them off!'

Harry laughed again. 'Yeah, well, I guess they just grew up being taught different ideas.'

'What happened next?'

'Oh, Hagrid took me back to the castle, and you know the rest.'

'Wow,' Ginny said. 'I can't believe half the things you did, you must have been insane. I can't believe he split his soul! Wow.'

They sat there, for a moment, whilst Ginny took all of what Harry had just told her in. After a while, she turned to him, slipping her hand inside his, and squeezing it. 'You're so brave,' she told him.

'Thank you,' Harry said quietly, 'for understanding.'

Ginny smiled, and softly pressed her lips to his, lingering for a moment, before withdrawing, and smiling at him again.

'Mmm,' Harry said. 'Oh, I've missed that.'

Ginny laughed softly. 'I'm glad to hear it.'

Harry pulled her to him, and leant in to kiss her. At the last moment, she turned her head, giggling.

'Oh, don't be a pain,' Harry laughed. 'Come here, and kiss me properly.'

He pulled her firmly to him, and kissed her before she could turn away again. He felt her smile against his lips, and he knew that she could feel him doing the same. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, until they broke away, slightly breathless. 'And that,' Harry informed her, 'was a proper kiss.'

**Any suggestions, criticisms, or, if you're feeling really generous, proposals of marriage, are always welcome! (****especially**** if you look like Brad Pitt!) Thank you very much for reading.**


	3. A Fairytale Ending

Disclaimer – I don't own anything!

Here it is – the last chapter! Sorry this took so long, but this chapter is quite long: I was asked to make an extra long chapter, and so I did! If you find any mistakes in this, I just wanted to get it up before I edited it, so I'm really sorry!

**A FAIRYTALE ENDING**

'I'm not going back,' Ginny announced somewhat petulantly as she stomped into the cluttered lounge room. 'I'm not going back, and you can't make me.'

Harry looked at her from over the top of one of Ron's comics and rolled his eyes. He pressed his lips together, trying desperately to hold back the laughter that was bursting to spill out, and made certain that he didn't look at Ron, who was sitting next to him on the lounge, and who, he was sure, was trying just as hard as he was to contain his laughter. She just looked so _fierce_, and she undoubtedly gearing up for a long, loud fight with her mother.

'And I suppose you'd want to know why, of course,' Ginny continued, having evidently decided to steamroll on ahead, without actually checking to see if her mother had a problem with the fact that she wasn't returning to school. 'Because there's no need. I mean, I _know_ that they've fixed it up, but the whole country's recovering from the war, and I don't really want to finish my NEWTS. Anyways, I don't want to because they're all being very understanding about people from my year not finishing their NEWTS, I mean, under the circumstances... Mum?'

Mrs. Weasley looked up at her from her darning – Ron and he had taken quite the tumble yesterday whilst playing Quidditch, and as such had returned to the house with their clothes in tatters – raised her eyebrows, and then nodded. 'Okay,' she said unconcernedly.

Ginny looked dumbfounded, and slightly disappointed. 'That's _it_? No _fight_, no "Ginny you have to go to school, you have to finish your education," no _nothing_?'

Ron sniggered quietly into his hands, and Hermione, who was sitting next to him, hit him over the head with a cushion sitting on the lounge next to her.

Harry sniggered, and then ducked when Hermione leant over Ron attempted to attack him with the cushion, whilst Ron slipped his arm around her waist and attempted to hold her back, under the guise of being loving.

Hermione saw straight through it, and so, glaring at him, she let out a huff. And then smiled and relented when he began to run his arm up and down her side.

'What?' Mrs. Weasley asked. 'I knew you weren't going back. It's alright. You don't have to.'

'But...'

'Fred and George didn't finish their seventh year, and neither did Ron, Hermione or Harry. Under the circumstances, it's perfectly acceptable.'

'Can't you just fight with me?' Ginny asked. 'I got all worked up for a fight.'

Harry laughed. 'Don't be stupid, Ginny.'

Ginny rolled her eyes at him before turning to her mother. 'I mean, I was standing out in that hallway for ages, I practiced the speech and everything... Are you _sure _you don't mind? And are you _sure_ you don't want to fight with me? It's really the least you can do.'

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. 'No. As long as you know what you want to do...?'

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. 'Quidditch.'

Hermione choked back a laugh, Mrs. Weasley looked resigned, and Harry and Ron cheered.

'That'd be mad, Gin,' Harry said.

'D'you reckon you'd get free tickets to games?' Ron asked.

'Typical,' snorted Hermione.

Harry grinned, and then pulled Ginny down onto the couch next to him. 'Game of Exploding Snap?' he asked. 'I refuse to play Ron at chess anymore.'

'You should have refused years ago,' Ginny told him. 'Merlin knows I did.'

'It's true,' Ron grumbled. 'No one'll play me at chess anymore.'

Ginny laughed as she pulled a pack of cards from the back of the lounge. 'Don't worry,' she told him. 'We'll play Quidditch later. It'll bring your ego down.'

Ron grumbled something about his ego being fine as it was, and Harry lowered himself onto the floor as to better slap the cards. It turned out to be a wise move, when, after a few tense minutes of no snapping whatsoever, he won half the pack.

'Don't be smug about it,' Ginny grumbled at him when he opened his mouth with a smirk. 'I don't want you to start thinking you're the "Exploding Snap master.""

Harry grinned, and told her to sit on the floor. To be honest, he had never been happier. Everything was as it should be; he was with Ginny, Voldemort was defeated, the wizarding world had almost completely recovered from the war, and the remaining Death Eaters were in prison.

Not to mention the sun was bright, and the summer had been beautifully warm.

Now, he'd be able to spend as much time as he wanted with Ginny. He'd been rather worried about what was going to happen when she went back to Hogwarts. He had been contemplating buying a house in Hogsmeade, before dismissing that idea; he could, of course, just Apparate there whenever she'd have a weekend at the village. But those weekends were few and far between as far as he was concerned, and he certainly didn't want to see her once a month, or even less.

And he knew that he wouldn't be able to march up to the school, and hang around the school, meeting her for lunch and during her breaks. He knew that whoever they chose as headmaster wouldn't appreciate that, even if he _had_ saved the wizarding world.

Even if they did let him do that, he knew that Ginny would have homework and assignments to deal with. And he wouldn't want to take advantage of his position within the wizarding world, which he would undoubtedly be doing if he was able to meet her for lunch and during her breaks.

He knew, of course, that he wouldn't go back to Hogwarts. He had no desire to go back to school, and he knew that Ron and Hermione didn't want to return either. He'd been speaking to them about going to Grimmauld place, which they both seemed keen about. And now... now Ginny could come too. Another amazing, wonderful turn of luck.

Later that evening, Harry, Hermione and Ron sat around a tiny table in a busy village cafe, enjoying a hastily scooped carton of ice-cream. School holidays had just started, and the quiet country town had grown with tourists and visitors. Harry took a deep breath of contentment, and then grinned lazily at Ron. 'Lovely evening,' he said.

'Yeah,' sighed Ron happily. 'Beautiful weather, no death threats, everything's getting sorted out now.'

'Well, we do have to sort out Grimmauld Place,' Hermione reminded them. 'I don't think that it's going to sort itself out.'

'You never know,' said Harry. 'I mean, who knows what spells have been put on it. It could have turned itself into a movie theatre or something.'

'A what?' Ron asked.

'What a wit,' Hermione rolled her eyes, brushing aside Ron's question. 'We should get started on it straight away.'

'I'm a little scared of that house, to be honest,' Ron said.

Harry sniggered. 'I bet there'll be a lot of spiders.'

Ron aimed a spoonful of ice-cream at Harry, and let it loose, earning a disapproving "humph" from Hermione and an outraged squeak from Harry.

'If you don't mind,' Hermione said, 'I'd rather we didn't start another war.'

'Well,' Harry said, 'if you're sure...'

Hermione rolled her eyes again, and then leant in close. 'What do you think of Ron's mum letting Ginny leave school?' she asked quietly.

Ron and Harry shared an amused look, and shrugged. 'I knew she wouldn't be going back,' Ron said.

'I did too,' Harry said. 'She didn't tell me, or anything, but I just figured that she wouldn't be.'

A silence fell as each of them took a mouthful of ice-cream. Of course, a few seconds later...

'Ouch! Brain freeze!'

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and rolled their eyes. 'Very typical, Ron,' Hermione said.

'I've been thinking,' Harry said slowly. 'Look, you both want to move into Grimmauld place, yeah? What if-'

'No,' Ron said sharply.

'Ron...'

'She's not old enough.'

'She's almost seventeen, and she's left school.'

'She's not moving out of home, and she's _not_ moving in with you.'

'She'd be moving in with you, as well...'

'No,' Ron said angrily. 'Look-'

'Oh, for goodness sake, Ron,' Hermione said. 'Why don't you ask _her_ before you start having a go at Harry?'

'I won't allow it,' Ron said stubbornly.

'Alright,' Hermione said. 'How about we speak to your mother first, before we speak to Ginny? If your mum isn't happy with it, then we don't say anything to Ginny, and she can move in with us when she's older.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'She'd never be old enough, would she?'

'Harry,' Hermione said warningly. 'Please?'

He sighed. 'Oh, alright,' he said. 'We'll talk to your mum, Ron, then?'

Ron didn't look any happier about this than he did before they decided to talk to Mrs. Weasley about it, but after a glare and a not-so-subtle kick under the table from Hermione, he grudgingly relented. 'Alright, we'll talk to mum. But I'm not saying that if she says yes, I'll change my mind.'

Hermione looked pointedly at Harry, and he sighed. 'Alright. It's the best I could have hoped for, I suppose.'

She gave him a reassuring smile, and then folded her hands on top of the table. 'We do need to sort everything out, you know,' she told them. 'And I'd rather we did it now.'

Ron groaned. 'What do we need to sort out?'

'When we're going; what we're taking; what we're going to do about the furniture in the house; the –'

'Alright,' Harry broke in hurriedly. 'We'll sort it out now.'

'Right,' Hermione said briskly. 'Let's get started, then.' She pulled out a notebook and a pen, which Ron and Harry eyed amusedly. 'When are we leaving?'

'It's July now...' said Harry slowly, 'so see if we can go by August?'

Ron eyed Harry suspiciously, but nodded. 'We'll try to leave by August.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Look, my decision to leave by August had nothing to do with the fact that it's around Ginny's birthday.'

It was only a little lie, Harry thought.

And by the looks both Ron and Hermione were giving him, one that was all too transparent.

'Okay,' Hermione said. 'You have to sort out your belongings, Ron, and – Harry do you have anything you need to sort out?'

Harry thought of his single bag of possessions. 'No,' he said, deciding to pay a visit to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley sometime soon.

'Right,' said Hermione, 'well, Ron, you can't take everything you own, so this is your chance to chuck out everything you _don't_ need.'

'But I do need everything,' Ron protested.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Look, I'll pack for you,' she said, choking on her ice-cream when she caught sight of Ron's horrified expression. 'I was only joking,' she laughed.

'We need to sort out the house, first,' Harry reminded her. 'We should transfigure pretty much everything.'

'We could have that done in two or three weeks, couldn't we?' Ron asked, finishing off his ice-cream.

Hermione nodded. 'Yeah, we could, but we'd better get started straight away.'

'Not today, Hermione,' Harry said lazily. 'Today's for resting.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You've had two months of resting!'

Harry groaned. 'You want us to go there right now, don't you?'

She sipped her drink indignantly, and then blushed. 'Oh, alright, yes I do. But only because I want it to get sorted out as soon as possible. If we don't get stuck into it, it'll be six months later and we wouldn't have finished the first room.'

Ron and Harry looked at each other in amusement. 'Alright,' Ron said. 'I suppose we'll go.'

* * *

It was later that evening when Harry, Hermione and Ron tumbled through the door, rather exhausted. They'd worked as fast as they could, and managed to transfigure everything in the kitchen, from the table and the seats to the cutlery and crockery, and even the lampshades, candle holders and door knobs.

Ron was loudly declaring the fact that he would never transfigure another item in his life. Hermione was snorting with disbelief, knowing the next time George needled him, he'd transfigure his hair into spaghetti. And Harry was trying to decide the best way to get Ron to agree to Ginny moving into Grimmauld place.

'Good evening,' Mrs. Weasley said, as she spotted them walking through the door.

'Hey, Mum,' Ron said. 'What's for dinner?'

'Evening, Mrs. Weasley,' Harry said. 'Where's Ginny?'

'Good evening, Mrs. Weasley,' Hermione said. 'Do you need a hand with anything?'

Mrs. Weasley gave a laugh. 'Lamb roast,' she said to Ron, 'at the Lovegood's,' she said to Harry, 'and no thank you, dear,' she said to Hermione.

As Ron took a seat at the table and Mrs. Weasley turned back to her cooking, Hermione pulled Harry aside. 'Let's talk to her about Ginny and Grimmauld place,' she murmured. 'It might be our only chance, and I want to do it while Ron is agreeing to us discussing this with Mrs. Weasley.'

Harry nodded. 'Okay,' he muttered back.

'Mrs. Weasley,' Hermione said as they took a seat at the table, 'could we please discuss something with you?'

Mrs. Weasley looked surprised, but nodded and took a seat at the table with them, wiping her hands on her apron.

'Of course,' she said. 'What did you want?'

Hermione and Harry shared a look. 'Well,' Harry said, noticing the annoyed expression on Ron's face. 'You know how we're going to go to Grimmauld Place? We were going to go next month.'

'Of course,' Mrs. Weasley said, looking puzzled.

'Well,' Hermione said slowly, 'we were wondering, well, because Ginny isn't returning to Hogwarts -'

'You want to know if she can move into Grimmauld Place with you, I suppose?' Mrs. Weasley finished.

'We haven't discussed this with Ginny, or anything,' Harry said quickly. 'We thought that we'd check with you first, before we... well...'

'Before you put the idea into Ginny's head, in case she couldn't go?'

'Well, yes.'

Mrs. Weasley nodded, looking pleased. 'Well, thank you for coming to me first,' she said. 'We'd need to discuss what you're doing, before I can make up my mind.'

'Well,' Hermione said, 'we were going to try and have it ready by next month. Right now we're transfiguring everything in the house, the furniture, the ornaments, everything. And then we just need to pack all of our belongings and arrange everything.'

Mrs. Weasley sat there, thinking it over for a moment. 'Okay,' she said finally. 'And what about jobs? Are you looking for a job?'

Hermione nodded. 'I'm going to try to get into the ministry, hopefully law enforcement.'

Both Ron and Harry looked at her in surprise; this was the first they'd heard of that.

'And?' Mrs. Weasley asked Harry and Ron. 'What are you two going to do?'

'We were going to sort that out tomorrow,' Harry told her. 'We're not completely sure yet.'

'Well,' Mrs. Weasley said, 'if you do get that sorted soon, I don't see why she shouldn't be able to move in with you. But not until after her birthday, mind you.'

Ron scowled. 'I don't really think that it's a good idea...' he said.

'What's not a good idea?' a voice said from the doorway.

'Erm,' Hermione said anxiously. 'Well...'

'They were just asking me if you could move into Grimmauld Place with them,' Mrs. Weasley said, smiling at Ginny. 'You can, if you want.'

Ginny's face lit up. 'Really?' She asked. 'Mad!' She turned to Harry. 'When are you moving?'

'Er,' Harry said, with a quick look at Ron, 'you can't until after your birthday...'

'I don't mind,' Ginny said happily. 'This is great!'

'Mmm,' Harry said, after another wary look at Ron. 'I know.' He smiled at her, and gave her a quick, one armed hug.

'I'll be back in a moment,' Ginny said. 'I just want to get changed – we went fishing for something or other.'

Harry swallowed and then nodded, wondering if Ron had been practicing Legilimency. He decided that he'd be dead now if he had – was she going to take a shower, too?

He was rather glad that Ron couldn't see what he was thinking.

As soon as Ginny was out of sight, Ron exploded. 'Mum! We didn't want Ginny to move in with us!'

'Then why did you ask me if she could?' Mrs. Weasley asked, looking puzzled.

'We wanted her to move in with us,' Hermione said, indicating herself and Harry. '_He_ didn't.'

'But why not?'

'She's too young,' Ron said angrily. 'She can't move out with us! And she can't move in with _him_.' He jabbed Harry in the chest with his finger.

Mrs. Weasley looked amused. 'Surely if you're old enough to go chasing after You-Know-Who, Ginny is old enough to move out with you?'

Ron folded his arms. 'She's not.'

'Ron,' Harry said quietly. 'I think you should let her make her own decisions.'

That, it seemed, was enough to tip the scales. 'Look, mate,' Ron said furiously, 'I don't want you to hurt my sister, understood? And I definitely don't want you to... to have your way with her!'

Hermione stifled a giggle, but Ron didn't notice. Harry had no idea how she could be laughing at a time like this. He decided to shut up and let Ginny battle it out with Ron when she came back down. He valued his friendship with Ron above all else, and as such, wouldn't risk getting into a fight with him over this. 'Right,' he said quickly. 'Sorry.'

Hermione stifled another giggle, and Mrs. Weasley let out an exasperated sigh. 'Look, Ron, you can take this up with Ginny when she comes back down, but I'm sure she's made up her mind. I doubt there's anything you can say that'll change her mind. You can't just _forbid_ her from going, after you spent the previous year living in a tent.'

And there was really nothing Ron could say to counter that.

* * *

Later that night, Ron was still a little annoyed with Harry. Harry was rather frustrated, but his friendship with Ron mattered more to him than anything else, and so he decided to say nothing on the matter, aside from non committal grunts.

'I just don't think she's old enough,' Ron said, for the hundredth time, and Harry bit back a sigh, for the hundredth time. 'And I know you're my best mate and all, I just don't want you to take advantage of her. Or hurt her.'

Harry grunted.

'And I mean, well, she should still be in school. She can't move out yet. I know that Fred and George did, but she can't. She's my little sister, for goodness sake. She just can't move out.'

'Hmm,' Harry said, looking intently at the wall. This protective big brother act Ron was pulling was getting rather old, but he knew it was better for him to let all his steam out now, and let Harry know where he stood now, than for it all to come hurtling to a point six months in the future. And it wasn't really harming him to put up with it, if he were honest with himself. It was a little tiring, yes, but he knew that Ron would feel happier, and he knew that there was no way Ginny wasn't coming with them to Grimmauld Place. Once she'd heard about it, she was down as a definite.

'What, is there a stain on there or something?' Ron asked, looking at the spot of the wall upon which Harry had been concentrating. 'Look, all I'm saying is that I'm going to have a bit of a chat to Bill, Charlie, George and Percy. We won't let her go.'

'Do you really think so?' Harry asked, for the first time turning his attention properly to Ron. 'I mean, I think Ginny'll end up doing whatever she wants, to be honest.'

This turned out to be the wrong thing to say entirely.

'Look, mate,' Ron said heatedly. 'I know you want her near you, but I know what you're after.'

'Right,' Harry said quickly. 'I'm sorry.'

'Yeah, well, you should be. I won't...' He trailed off as the door to his room burst open, evidently in the case that it was Ginny who was coming through the door.

'You won't what?' George asked, as he closed the door behind him. 'Budge over, Ron, I want to sit there.'

'Harry and Ginny want to move out together,' Ron told him.

Harry flinched.

He couldn't believe that Ron had told George that. Besides from not being completely accurate, he was now surely going to die.

'What?' George all but shouted. 'No way, mate. She's staying right here at home. Where she belongs.'

'It's not like that,' Harry said quickly. 'I just said to Ron at lunch today that it'd be nice if Ginny moved out with us. And then we talked to your mum about it, and your mum told Ginny before we could stop her.'

He was quite glad that Ginny hadn't heard George say she belonged at home. And he knew George would have never dared to say such a think within earshot of Ginny.

Harry was still rather afraid of Ginny.

'And of course, now Ginny's got her heart set on moving out with you lot. Well, it's just not happening. We'll just have to talk to Bill, Charlie and Perce about it.'

'Hmm,' Harry said. 'Do you really think that'd make a difference?'

George's reaction was so very similar to Ron's that he was actually rather surprised.

'I know what you want, mate, and I won't let you hurt her,' George said, stabbing Harry in the chest with his finger. 'She's not moving out with you.'

'Sorry,' Harry said quickly, rubbing his chest. 'Of course not.'

'Well, since that's settled,' George said, in a businesslike manner, 'I want to talk to you, Ron.'

'What about?' Ron asked suspiciously.

'I want you to be my partner in the shop.'

Harry knew that Ron was sure he'd misheard. Harry was actually quite surprised, too. This would have been the last thing he'd expect George to say. He knew that even two months after the death of his twin he was still feeling the loss rather badly, though he had gotten better. But he wondered how long it had taken for George to decide to ask Ron this. It was a very final sort of act, as if he was putting to rest Fred's memory, and recognising that he was dead, that he'd never come back again. He doubted if he could have done such a thing.

'Sorry?' Ron said, evidently thinking much the same as Harry. 'You what?'

'Don't be an idiot,' George said impatiently. 'I, well, I do... need a partner, and we were going to ask you to join us when you'd left school and the war was over, anyway. And don't make me beg, for Merlin's sake. I'm not begging.'

'I... are you sure? Are you... well... really? It's not... are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure,' George rolled his eyes. 'I wouldn't have asked you otherwise, you git, would I?'

Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

'I... I don't know what to say...'

'Yes would be a good starting point...'

Ron nodded mutely.

'Good. You start next week.'

Ron opened his mouth, perhaps to thank him, but George foresaw his intentions. 'Don't thank me, you git. You're doing _me_ a favour.'

'Oh, well, thanks anyways,' Ron said. 'Now mum'll get off my back about getting a job. So when will you... sorry, we, when will _we_ be opening the shop again?'

George shrugged. 'Two or three weeks.'

'Two or three weeks?' Ron asked in surprise. 'Isn't that a little soon?'

'No,' George said. 'It's ages away.'

'And you don't think it's too soon after... after the final battle?'

George shook his head. 'I can't mope around forever, can I? And I need to get the shop sorted out.'

'Right, well, thank you, then. This'll be great. Though I don't know how Mum'll take it, to be honest.'

George sniggered. 'Well, we'll have to have a talk with Bill and the rest soon, yeah? We'll all get together and discuss what we're to do about Ginny.'

Harry bit back a sceptical grin and wisely said nothing. Ron nodded. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely. 'This is wonderful.'

* * *

The next day found Harry, Hermione and Ron sitting on the floor in the living room, attempting to make a house of cards, out of exploding snap cards. It was rather exciting, Harry thought, because the cards kept on exploding, and they repeatedly had to start all over. It was a wonderful feeling, sitting there. It felt almost domestic like. He felt safe, and he had his family with him.

It was, in fact, the most content that he'd ever felt. He know knew what was happening, aside from the job situation, of course, and that was of great comfort to him.

There was a knock at the door, but in their lazy, contented state no one really paid attention to it. When Kingsley walked through the door, however, they were rather surprised. His new role as Minister, they knew, was very demanding, and took up a lot of his time. They'd very rarely seen him since the final battle, and each time they did he looked very busy, and rather hassled. He nodded a greeting to them from the adjoining room as Mrs. Weasley took his coat and hung it by the door, and they grinned back as, after a quiet word to Mrs. Weasley, he walked into the living room and stood before them.

'I was just wondering,' he said as Mrs. Weasley took a last peek at them through the door, and then scurried off, 'if I could possibly have a word.'

'Of course,' Harry said, slightly puzzled, as they all got to their feet – Ron groaning laboriously.

'Er,' Ron said, after a quick scan of the rather disorderly living room, 'shall we all go into the kitchen?'

Kingsley nodded. 'That would be best.'

They walked into the kitchen, and Harry, Hermione and Ron took a seat side by side at the table. Kingsley sat opposite – sighing with relief as he did – and took a briefcase out of seeming nowhere, placing it onto the cluttered table before him.

'I can't thank you enough,' he began, 'for defeating Voldemort.'

Harry shared a surprised look with Ron. Was he just here to thank them? He'd already thanked them plenty – for goodness sake, they'd gotten Orders of Merlin. Harry didn't want any thanks at all, if he were honest. He was just doing what he'd had to do.

'Thank you,' Hermione said, but she, too, sounded surprised.

Kingsley gave a loud, booming laugh. 'You all look so confused,' he said. 'That's not just why I came, obviously, but I thought it'd be a good starting point.'

Far from reassuring Harry, these words started him worrying. What on earth did he want? What sort of favour was he after? He'd had people hounding him ever since he'd defeated Voldemort; all of them wanting him to endorse some sort of product. And of course, what better a thing to endorse than the Ministry? Was Kingsley here to do what Fudge and Scrimgeour had failed to do? He'd never thought Kingsley would be like this.

'I'm here to offer you a job,' he said, to Harry's – and if the dropped jaws of Ron and Hermione were anything to go by, theirs as well – great surprise. And most definitely his great relief. 'I know that, well, you two, at least, Harry and Ron, want to be Aurors, and we could definitely use you both, and you too, Hermione, what with your brain, and you've all got more experience than most people.'

Hermione blushed and looked very pleased, Ron's ears went a bright red, and Harry was absolutely shocked.

'You're offering us jobs as Aurors?' he asked, needing some sort of clarification.

'Yes. Well, that, or if you want another job at the Ministry, I could set you up with the head of the department.'

'Really?' Hermione breathed. 'Oh, Kingsley, you're wonderful.'

Kingsley smiled. 'So what do you think?'

There was silence at the three of them looked at each other, amazed. Could this be true? Would they really be able to get jobs at the Ministry? Harry had thought it impossible, now. He hadn't finished school, after all, and he knew that to be an Auror he would have needed top marks. Would they mind? Kingsley had been an Auror, after all, so perhaps he could. It was Ron who finally broke the silence.

'I, well, George actually asked me to help out with the shop,' he said apologetically. 'So... I'm sorry. Perhaps once the shop's up again... well, I don't know actually, cause I was planning on staying there for a while, to be honest...'

'That's okay,' Ron,' Kingsley told him. 'But if at any point in the future you want to join the Aurors, just come and see me.'

Ron nodded, looking pleased. 'I definitely will. Thank you, Kingsley.'

Kingsley turned his gaze to Hermione, and then Harry. 'What about you two?'

'Well,' said Hermione, 'I don't know about being an Auror, to be honest, I think I've had enough fighting dark wizards for a long time, but I actually really want to get into law enforcement.'

Kingsley grinned. 'Something you'd be very good at, no doubt. Of course. I'll set you up with the head of department as soon as I can. And you, Harry?'

Harry opened his mouth to say something – anything – but found he didn't know what to say. Instead, he settled for nodding.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'I'd like that a lot.'

'An Auror?' Kingsley asked.

Harry nodded again. 'An Auror.'

Kingsley grinned. 'That's wonderful!' he said. 'Are you free on Monday, next week?'

Harry nodded.

'Great, come into the Ministry, to my office, at ten thirty on Monday. Arthur'll show you the way. Hermione, I'll send you an owl when I've organised your meeting. And Ron, I wish you the best of luck with the shop.' He stood up and collected his briefcase. 'Now, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. So I'll see you all later. Thank you so much.'

They saw him out the door, and then when he had disappeared, looked at each other.

'Wow,' Hermione said. 'Wow.' She began to dance on the spot.

'This is brilliant,' grinned Harry.

'Well, I'm glad that I'm not doing it,' said Ron honestly. 'I'm with Hermione, I've had all the fighting dark wizards that I can take!'

'Oh this is wonderful,' Hermione said happily. 'Let's go out tonight to celebrate.'

'Where do you want to go out to?' Ron asked, looking at Hermione in surprise.

'I don't care,' said Hermione. 'I just want to go out. Let's go to The Three Broomsticks.'

Ron opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 'Okay,' he shrugged.

Hermione did another dance, and then hugged both Ron and Harry. 'I'll go and ask Ginny, shall I? And George and Percy as well?'

Harry nodded. 'They'll like that.'

Hermione ran up the stairs, no doubt going straight for Ginny's room, to tell her the good news. Harry sat back down at the table, still feeling very pleased.

'Congratulations mate,' Ron said, summoning some bottles of butterbeer from the cupboards. Harry took a sip and grinned appreciatively at him.

'This is fantastic,' he said. 'I didn't think I'd be able to get into that department, what with me not finishing school and all.'

'Yeah,' said Ron. 'But I suppose everything you've done more than makes up for it.'

'Yeah. Yeah, hey, this is great!'

'Now mum'll be happy, too. Us having jobs and all.'

'Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'And living in London will be great; we'll be close to everything.'

It was strange, though, Harry thought. He's sort of just assumed that Hermione and Ron would want to be Aurors as well. Well, he knew that Ron wouldn't, after the conversation George and Ron had had, the day before, but he'd just thought Hermione would want to be an Auror. He knew, though, that she'd be completely in her element in the Law Enforcement department, even though she'd told Scrimgeour the year before that she didn't want to pursue a career in that area. She'd be able to stand up for her elf rights, and only Merlin knew what else.

But he didn't know what he'd do without them! They'd always been by his side, year after year. He knew that he'd only gotten through everything that he did because he had them to help him. He'd had Hermione for the brains, the quick thinking, and her logic, and Ron for the moral support, for the jokes, for just being _Ron_.

And then another thought hit him; what happens when they get older, when they get married, and when they move away? What was he supposed to do then? Suppose they just drifted apart, suppose they just stopped talking to one another? It did happen, more often than not, and it was an awful, awful thought.

But, no, Harry thought. He and Ginny were in it for the long run, he knew that much, and he knew that they'd always see each other; that they'd never be able to just drift apart. Because they were just so _close_, because they just worked so well together.

They heard a clunk and then a shriek from upstairs, and then the sounds of Ginny and Hermione shouting at George, as he laughed at him. Ron took a sip of butterbeer and rolled his eyes. Harry grinned.

'Things are really great,' he said, completely confident that no matter what happened, they would always be friends.

* * *

The door slammed open, alarming Harry and Ron, who both reached for their wands and pointed them at the door, whilst Ginny tumbled into Ron's room, squealing. This was quite odd in itself, because very rarely did Ginny squeal. Seconds later, Hermione ran through the door, also squealing, and threw herself at Ron. Looking at them both, Harry began to get quite concerned. Should he take them to St. Mungos'? What was wrong with them? For goodness sake, _why__on earth_ were they squealing?

He chanced a look at Ron, and, upon seeing the bewildered look on his face, felt rather better. He wasn't in this alone.

'Er...' Harry said. 'Er, are you okay?' Ron patted Hermione on the head awkwardly.

The two girls looked at each other, and burst out giggling. Harry became, if possible, even more frightened. What on earth had happened?

'Well, if you feel like explaining...' he said.

'I got it!' Hermione said, as she unlatched herself from Ron danced across the room, and came to a stop in front of the window. 'I got the job! I start my training next week!'

'Wow, Hermione,' Harry said. 'Good job! That's great!'

'That's fantastic!' said Ron. 'I'm very proud of you.'

Hermione beamed at him. 'I thought I'd get it,' she said, very fast, 'but it was still very intimidating and scary. Wasn't this lovely of Kingsley? And she said that she'd heard about me, and about all of the stuff we'd done at school, and she said that she was so pleased when Kingsley contacted her to arrange the meeting. And she said –'

'Wow, Hermione,' Harry said, laughing. 'Calm down!'

Hermione glared at him. 'Let me be excited,' she said.

'Sorry,' Harry said. 'Go on.'

'And she said that I'd be a huge asset to the department!'

'And guess what?' Ginny asked, bumping Hermione out of the way with her hip. It was clear that she had been bursting to say this from the moment she ran into the room. 'I trialled, and got into the reserve team for the Harpies! If I play well, by next year I could be in the actual team!'

Harry and Ron's jaws dropped. They hadn't been expecting anything like this. 'You didn't tell us you were trying out for the _Harpies_,' Ron said indignantly.

'That's absolutely incredible,' Harry said, amazed.

'Are you _serious?_' Ron asked. 'And do you get us free tickets to games?'

Ginny laughed, and slapped him on the arm. 'I get free tickets, yes.But I'm not actually playing yet; I'm only in the reserve team. So I play with them at practices, which is every day from dawn until midday, and if someone can't make the team, I get to play.'

'Yeah, but it happens more often than you think,' Ron told her. 'Especially as you're a Chaser. You'll get to play a lot.'

A grin broke out across Ginny's face, and she squealed again, throwing her arms around Harry. 'I'm just so excited!' she said.

'And I'm absolutely amazed,' Harry said. 'When do you start?'

'Next week,' Ginny told him. 'I can help out with Grimmauld Place after practice, and whatever meetings I may have.'

Bill, Charlie, Percy, George and Ron had all tried to have a talk with Ginny about Grimmauld Place, even going so far as to forbid her from going, but she was adamant, as Harry knew she'd be. Hermione had told him that it had been a rather amusing little session, but Harry hadn't the courage to face her brothers; he had taken off for the pond as soon as he saw Charlie and Bill Apparate in the field and walk to the house.

He knew they'd have a few words to say to him, and he wasn't really sure if he wanted to hear it. He'd already heard most of it from Ron, yes, but he didn't want to have to face all five of them.

Though, he considered, it was really Ron, George and Percy who didn't want to let her go to Grimmauld Place. Both Charlie and Bill were happy if she was happy, and they both knew that she'd be happiest with Harry, Hermione and Ron at Grimmauld Place.

Harry couldn't wait until Ginny told Charlie and Bill about the Harpies. He knew that Charlie, in particular, would be absolutely delighted.

He grinned at Ron as the two girls began to talk excitedly, gesticulating wildly, their voices rising rapidly in pitch.

'Free tickets,' whispered Ron excitedly. 'Can you believe it?'

'Can you believe she's in the _Harpies_?' Harry whispered back. 'That's the most amazing thing ever.'

'And free tickets!'

'Is that all you care about?' Ginny asked crossly. 'I mean, I just joined a nation Quidditch team, thanks, and all you can think about is the fact that I get free tickets.'

Hermione and Harry sniggered, and then quickly looked suitably guilty when she turned her glare on them.

'Sorry,' they mumbled.

'Come on Ginny,' Ron said, 'you know how excited I am for you! I can't wait until you tell the others. Oh, hey, wait a second! Have you already _told_ the others?'

'Don't be stupid,' Ginny said. 'I told you three first.'

'So you told no one that you were trying out?'

Ginny shook her head. 'Well, if I hadn't have gotten in, none of you would have know.'

Harry considered this. 'That was actually a good idea,' he said. 'Less stress, as well. If we'd all known, you'd have felt like you'd _have_ to get in, or you'd have failed.'

Ginny nodded. 'Exactly. I told mum, though, and she invited everyone over for dinner, so I can tell them all.' A grin broke out across her face again. 'Oh, I'm so excited!'

They heard Mrs. Weasley calling them, and so Ron and Hermione trouped out the door, and down the stairs. Harry and Ginny, however, lingered behind for a moment. 'I'm so proud of you,' Harry murmured, pulling her close into a hug. Ginny closed her eyes and smiled.

'I'm so glad,' she said. 'This is just so exciting.'

* * *

Monsters had just invaded his house. He was completely sure of it. These two raging, frantic, _pedantic_ females were in no way similar to the two he previously knew as Ginny and Hermione.

He and Ron had privately agreed to never let them live together, or decorate together ever again.

And this was only the beginning. He could only imagine what living with them after six months would be like. Merlin, they hadn't even moved in yet!

It was nearing his birthday, and the end was in sight; they were now moving their belongings out of the Burrow, or, in Hermione's case, out of her home, and into their rooms. Harry had chosen Sirius' old bedroom; the sight of all of Sirius' things was of great comfort to him. Ron had overseen the choosing of Ginny's room with a stern look, and if Hermione hadn't had stepped in, would have certainly insisted on having his own room between Ginny's and the staircase. He was adamant that Ginny would not sneak upstairs to Harry's room at any time.

Harry made sure to agree with everything Ron said, simply because it kept the peace. He did not want another fight, and he knew how much Ron cared for Ginny. Ginny had much less patience with Ron, but Hermione knew that she had taken her aside and had a quiet word with her, because she'd suddenly become much more accepting of Ron's determined attempts to defend her honour.

He hadn't as of yet gone shopping, because things had been altogether too busy. He had started Auror training, and Ginny had begun her training. She was absolutely exhausted, though she was having the time of her life. Each day she came to Grimmauld Place, or home to the Burrow with more stories about her team mates, or what they did at training, and at moments, he regretted becoming an Auror. Then he would remember training, and the satisfaction that came with it, and he no longer regretted it.

Auror training was just so _fun_. He was learning countless spells, tactics and strategies. He now actually had some sort of idea _what_ he was doing. And they had been doing a lot of practical work – rounding up the last of Voldemort's supporters.

When he had found out that there were some Death Eaters still at large, he had been furious. He'd been told by Kingsley, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, and numerous other people that they'd _already_ been rounded up, and as a result had spent the last two months feeling completely and utterly safe, and doing nothing to help round them up.

Kingsley had patiently tried to explain to him that they hadn't wanted to concern him with it, because he'd already done so much for them, and besides, they really should leave that sort of stuff to the Aurors, but that hadn't made Harry any happier. He'd said, very angrily, something about how they needed him to defeat Voldemort, but once he was out of the way, he wasn't qualified to round up some Death Eaters. He was quite sure that Kingsley had regretted that phrasing as soon as it came out of his mouth, and it had seemed quite strange, because Kingsley was always so secure, so confident, so _diplomatic_. For goodness sake, his own uncle had been quite taken with him.

He hadn't said anything more, and he'd apologised to Kingsley for getting mad with him – he was, after all, the Minister – and Kingsley in turn had apologised, and Harry had put it down to Kingsley being a little stressed.

It was rather satisfying seeing his supporters thrown in gaol.

Though when they'd gone to collect the Malfoys, Harry had a sudden twinge on his conscience. Narcissa, for all her nasty ways, had saved his life. Draco, bully that he way, had also tried to save them, though admittedly, he had also tried to turn him over to Voldemort, and Lucius, well, in the end, he'd just cared about keeping his family safe more than anything else. Which Harry had cared about; he had also cared about keeping his own family safe. It just so happened that they seemed to be on opposing sides.

When they'd been caught, Harry had stepped in. He just couldn't, with good conscience, let them be thrown in gaol. He'd told them how Narcissa had saved his life by _lying_ to Voldemort. Kingsley had taken a long, hard look at Harry, and, obviously torn, had ordered them to be put in a waiting cell until they could decide. Then he and Harry had had a long, _long_ discussion about it. Kingsley had tried to point out to Harry all of the awful things that they had done, not least of which was making Ginny open the Chamber of Secrets. Though Harry had agreed with Kingsley that they'd done appalling things, he explained how he just _couldn't._ He explained that they, like Snape, had just gotten caught up in something that was beyond their control, and how they just hadn't been able to get out.

He'd been standing in the next room when Kingsley had told them they were free to go – though not without conditions, of course, and had seen them as they'd walked out. Lucius had nodded at them, Draco had bit his lip and looked _somewhat_ grateful towards him, and Narcissa had actually _smiled_ at him. He was beyond shocked.

He'd seen her a few times since, though they'd hardly had a conversation. She'd evidently decided she should reunite with Andromeda, and he'd seen her when he'd gone to visit Teddy. Andromeda, though evidently wary at first, was beyond overjoyed to be reunited with her little sister, and they seemed to be making up for a lot of lost time. Though Harry still couldn't get past his initial feeling of anger and loathing whenever he looked at her, he was able to put it aside, for the good of Teddy and Andromeda. And he hadn't seen Draco or Lucius yet, which he could only think of as a good thing. He didn't want the awkwardness that would surely pass between them.

He heard a roar from downstairs, and then a few muffled curses and the sound of laughter. He rolled off Sirius' bed – _his_ bed, and started down the stairs, knowing that they'd be calling his name in a moment anyway. And sure enough, before he'd even gone one flight, he heard Ginny yelling his name. When he arrived in the sitting room, he found Ron and Hermione in the midst of an enormous fight, while Ginny sat on the lounge, trying desperately not to laugh.

'What happened?' he murmured to Ginny as he avoided Ron's wildly waving arms and sat next to her.

'They're having a slight disagreement,' Ginny told him. 'Hermione wanted something moved, and Ron dropped it on his foot.'

'Oh,' Harry said. 'This is slight?'

Ginny nodded, sniggering. 'Come on,' she nudged him with her shoulder. 'Let's get out of here.'

'Oh, great,' Harry said. 'Yeah, let's go to Diagon alley, and Hogsmeade? I need to get things, like clothes and stuff.'

'Oh thank Merlin,' Ginny said. 'Yeah, let's go _right_ now. I need to go somewhere – anywhere – that isn't here or the Burrow.'

Later that evening, they returned to Grimmauld Place. Harry was absolutely exhausted; shopping with Ginny had proved to be more tiring than he thought. As soon as they had gone to Gringotts – a visit that had been highly intimidating and rather awkward, and rightly so, seeing as the last time he'd been there he had broken into a vault and escaped on a dragon – she'd taken charge. She'd sat down at one of the cafes along the street, pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink, and began to write.

'Er...' Harry had said, 'aren't we going shopping?'

Ginny nodded, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she scribbled. 'I'm writing down what you need,' she said distractedly.

'Clothes?' Harry had said.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and then, checking over the list once more, she stood up. 'Okay, let's go,' she had said, grabbing his hand. 'We've got a long day ahead of us.'

'Er, Ginny,' Harry had said. 'I only need clothes.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

And that had been that.

Madam Malkin's had been the first stop, where Ginny had forced him to get two pairs of formal dress robes, and some pairs of work robes – which included one pair of duelling robes that he was sure he'd never use out on the field; jeans and a shirt were so much more comfortable, not to mention more practical. He likened it to duelling in a dress – girls didn't do it, so neither should he. Madam Malkin and Ginny had exchanged an exasperated look, and then Ginny had grabbed Harry's money bag and paid for them before Harry could say another word.

They went into the Apothecary next, where Ginny informed him as an Auror, he needed an extensive supply of potion making materials. Harry had grumbled about this, because he had half hoped that he'd never have to make a potion again. After that, they'd gone to the Cauldron Shop, where he'd had to buy a cauldron, seeing as he didn't have one anymore. Then they'd gone to Flourish & Blotts, where she'd made him buy quite a number of books. Then they'd gone into Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he'd bought a Firebolt – though he was sure they'd have another, better broom out on the market soon enough, he didn't know when he'd be able to bring himself to stop using the Firebolt, especially as his first had been a gift from Sirius. They'd stopped by a stationary store to pick up supplies, and then gone into Eeylops Owl Emporium, where Ginny had quite firmly told Harry to buy another owl.

Then they'd sent all their shopping back to Grimmauld Place – Harry had thought that was the end of shopping, but Ginny had just laughed at him – and gone into Muggle London. Because Ginny had never gone on the tube before, they'd caught the underground to Piccadilly Circus, where Ginny had been absolutely amazed at everything. After he'd bought some clothes – jeans, shirts and the like – she had dragged him into Hamley's Toy Store, which she'd declared to be the most amazing, incredible store she'd ever seen. He'd taken her bowling, to her great amusement, and then taken her on the dodgem cars, and to a gaming arcade.

'Wow,' she kept on saying. 'This is incredible!'

After that, she had convinced him to do a little more shopping in Hogsmeade, and when they'd finished, they had stopped by Honeydukes' before having a lovely evening meal in The Three Broomsticks.

All in all, it had been a long day. He was absolutely glad to be back at Grimmauld Place. Ginny hadn't let him rest, however, until he had put all of his things away in their proper places and chosen a room for a potions lab.

'It's important,' she told him, 'that you have a potions lab. And you'll need a study, though there's already one of those, and you'll need a duelling room.'

Harry cheered up at the idea of a duelling room; now he could show Ron the spells that he was learning, and they could practice on one another, so that when Ron actually did join the Auror team, he'd already have some sort of idea of what he was supposed to be doing.

They sat down in the sitting room, in front of the roaring fire. The sitting room had been one of the first to be completed, and as such, had been the one that had had the most work done to it. Even whilst they were busy with another room, one of them would suddenly say, 'Oh, I've a fantastic idea for the sitting room!' and rush off to make the changes. It was lovely, in warm tones, thick carpet and the most comfortable lounges imaginable. Everything was perfect, right down the last little detail.

Kreacher brought them both mugs of hot chocolate as they sat, cuddled together in front of the fire. 'Let's stay here, tonight,' Ginny whispered to Harry. 'I just want to be able to be alone with you for a while.'

Harry looked at her in surprise. 'What would your mum have to say about that? Merlin, what would _Ron_ have to say about that?'

'I don't care. I just don't really feel like going back to the Burrow tonight, to be honest.'

Harry pulled her closer to him, and kissed her cheek. 'I'm glad,' he said. 'But we'll need to let your mum know.'

Ginny nodded. 'Can we cast charms around the house?' she asked. 'So my brothers can't get in?'

Harry laughed. 'Why don't you just ask you mum to not let your brothers know?'

Ginny grinned, and grabbed a bit of parchment from the coffee table. Scribbling a note onto it, she gave it to Harry's new owl, and sent it on her way.

'I did what you said,' she told him. 'I told her not to let Ron or George know.'

Harry laughed again. 'That's good,' he said, nuzzling her neck. 'I don't want them coming here in a rush.'

Ginny turned around to kiss him properly, a long, deep kiss that left him feeling rather glad that he was sitting down, well, half lying down, actually, because he knew that his knees wouldn't have been able to support his weight had he been standing.

'You know there's a reason I wanted to stay here, tonight,' Ginny murmured against Harry's mouth.

'Oh really?' Harry chuckled, as he pressed his lips to hers again.

'Mmm hmm,' Ginny breathed, when they broke apart.

'So shall we stay here, then?' Harry asked her with a grin. 'Or do you want to go somewhere else?'

But he'd pressed his lips to hers before she answer, and it was a while before she'd recovered enough of her senses so she _could_ answer.

'Mmm,' she murmured. 'Mmm, oh... I... no...'

She had to push him away so she could answer. 'No,' she breathed. 'No, let's go up to your room.'

Harry pressed her lips to his again, pulling her tightly into him. 'A most sensible idea,' he said when they parted.

It was hard work, getting to his room, Harry thought as he found himself pressed against some stair railing or other. He broke away from Ginny – though how he was able to, he didn't know – and grasped her hand in his, pulling her up two whole flights before he found himself drawn to her lips again.

'Mmm,' Ginny murmured again. 'Oh, hang on.' She pulled herself away from the table on the landing, upon which a number of very uncomfortable things had been pressing into her back. She pressed her lips to Harry's again, whilst grasping behind her for the doorknob to his room, eventually finding it, and pushing it open. They tumbled through, and then shut it behind, and Harry wisely – at least he thought so, especially under the circumstances – locked it and cast some charms to prevent anyone from coming in.

He pulled Ginny to him again, and kissed her on the mouth, before moving her hair aside and pressing his lips to her neck, and pulling her down upon the bed with him.

'Oh, wow,' Ginny murmured. 'Oh, that's fantastic...'

'That's quite enough talking from you,' Harry chuckled.

And then suddenly, he realised what he was about to do. He realised exactly what was about to happen. And he began to panic. This was new for him; he'd never done anything like this before. And he hoped very dearly that neither had Ginny. But what was he to _do? _He knew the basics, yes, and he'd picked up a bit from the crude comments thrown around in the dormitory, but that was just it; his entire knowledge of what to do was learned from toilet humour. He knew that Seamus and Dean were mainly talking out of their arse, and he knew that they'd been just as – or at the very least, _almost_ as inexperienced as him, so they couldn't know very much aside from the basics.

And what if Ginny wasn't ready? What if she didn't want to? She wasn't even of age, yet.

She pulled away, frowning at him quizzically. 'What's wrong?' she asked.

'Are you ready?' he asked her. 'Are you sure about this?'

Ginny laughed. 'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, I completely sure about this.'

'Really?'

Ginny rolled her eyes and punched him. 'Yes, you git. Now shut up and kiss me, or I'll think you're just not interested.'

'Well, Ginny...'

Ginny rearranged her face into an offended look that Harry sorely hoped was a joke, and made to get off him. 'Well, then,' she said.

Harry pulled her back to him quickly. 'Nuh uh,' he told her. 'I just want to make sure you really want this.'

Ginny kissed him deeply, leaving him utterly breathless. 'How's that for an answer?' she breathed huskily into his mouth, before moving down his jaw, to his neck, stopping along the way to nibble on his ear.

'Oh, Gin,' he breathed. 'Woah, that's incredible. Mmm...'

She slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt, and lightly touched the skin of his stomach, and his breathing hitched, and his heart began to beat a little faster. She trailed her hands along his stomach, and then over his ribs whilst doing something – he couldn't actually tell what it was, whilst in this state – to his neck.

She giggled softly against his neck, and he moaned softly. 'That's fantastic,' he breathed, before pulling her face towards his, and pressing his lips to her. With a quick, calculated, and slightly awkward move, he flipped them over so that he was resting above her, trapping her beneath him. Fingers trembling, he hesitantly slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt, and began to trail his fingers over her skin. She giggled against his mouth again, and pulled her shirt up before placing her hand over his, making him move it across her stomach, and then over her ribs, before moving it that little bit higher...

Harry's heart began to beat faster and faster, and his fingers began to turn to jelly. Was this what she really wanted? Her hands moved his until they were resting on top of her left breast, on the lacy fabric of her bra. She moved his hand so that it was rubbing her breast softly, and then took her hand away. His fingers faltered softly, and she giggled again. 'It's what I want,' she breathed huskily. 'Stop bloody thinking.'

She moved her hands to his sides, and then gripped the bottom of his shirt, drawing it up and over his head before running her hands down his sides, across his stomach, and then around his back, her fingers resting lightly just above the waist of his jeans. He hesitantly returned the favour, awkwardly pulling her shirt up above her head, and tossing it lightly onto the ground beside the bed. He looked down at her with a soft smile, running his hands over her stomach before slipping his hands into her hair and kissing her quite thoroughly.

Somehow, by the time the kiss had ended only their underwear remained. His heart, if it were at all possible, began to beat faster, and faster still. He moved his mouth to her neck, slipping his hands around her back, and struggling with quite the obstacle.

Ginny giggled and took pity on him. She half sat up, and put her hands behind her back, helping him along...

* * *

The next morning, Harry work up, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming through the open windows. He sighed contentedly before pulling Ginny closer to him. 'I love you,' he murmured into her hair, and he felt, rather than saw her smile.

'I love you too.'

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! Please, **_**please**_** review – I worked so hard at this, and it's long, because I wanted to leave you with a long chapter to end everything. Anyone who reviews gets a bag of the finest Honeydukes chocolate!****Thank you to everyone who added this to their favourites, and a huge, **_**huge**_** thank you to everyone who reviewed!**


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